


cage of ifs

by esama



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body Horror, Lovecraftian, M/M, Mind Horror, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 13:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9388196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esama/pseuds/esama
Summary: In which Newt is not a wizard and there's reason the condition of obscurus is named what it is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> unbetaed as always

Credence breathes slowly in and out, staring at the handful of leaflets he's holding. The world is shifting under his feet again, tilting softly to the side. Dizzy, he wishes that he could sit down, or maybe even lie down, somewhere dark and cool where it was quiet and there weren't people shouting. His head aches and the shouting isn't making it any better.

"This great city sparkles with the jewels of man's invention!" Mother calls over the crowd of people milling about listening. Most of them aren't from the Society, Credence knows – most are just passers by or bank goers who got drawn in by accident most likely, or maybe morbid curiosity. He can hear some of them laugh under their palms. "Movie theatres, electric lights, all dazzle and bewitch us!"

Swallowing Credence screens the crowd, hoping against hope of seeing a familiar, friendlier face among the crowd of mocking strangers. He can see the derision and amusement on their faces, the way one man shakes his head muttering something to himself. There is a woman with keen face and mustard on her upper lip, she seems familiar – but she looks way when she notices him watching.

"But where there is light there is shadow, friend," Mother tells the crowd earnestly. "Something is stalking our city, wrecking destruction and then disappearing without a trace…"

There is a flash of colour, strangely vivid in the crowd of muted colours and Credence's eyes halt in their attempt of looking down guiltily. He's instead drawn to notice a man who has just bumbled into the woman with a hotdog.

The man is staring at him, his eyes wide and his face strangely sincere even as he mutters apologies to the woman. Is he looking at Mother? No, he is clearly staring at _Credence_ and he's not looking away.

Credence looks back, confused. He tries to look away – he's learned better than to look at people for too long. But… but he can't. The man's eyes, their colour too bright and too dark all at once, are arresting.

The man in blue doesn't notice another man bump into him, colliding into his shoulder like into a wall. Only when the other man, a heavy set man in a dark suit, falls over flailing and shouting, "What the -!" does the man's eyes shift from Credence, looking confusedly down even as people turn to stare.

"Oh, so sorry," the man in blue mutters in soft accents and crouches down, strangely crablike, to offer his hands. "I didn't see you there – here, let me help you…"

They're making a bit of a scene there and people are shifting back, watching the man in blue to help the man in black up. "Man, you're build like a brick wall!" the man in black says with a laugh. "Thank you – sorry, I have to get into the bank, I have a meeting – " he then says and quickly grabs his suitcase and after brief, confused smile at the man in blue, he hurries on. "Excuse me, coming through…"

Mother has noticed the man in blue now too, noticed that he's different, and she quickly points him out. "You, friend! What drew you to our meeting today?"

The man looks – not at Mother, but at Credence. He smiles, awkward with too many teeth and says, "Shadows," like it means something. "Shadows drew me here."

"So you've seen, you've noticed the going ons?" Mother asks, vivified, and waves her hand at the crowd. "Even foreigners from far off lands can see what is happening! Our fair city, so bright and so shining, casts it's shadows far and they are dark shadows indeed, friends! We must do something, we must fight for the light in our city…"

Credence swallows, and the man in blue coat _smiles_ straight at him, knowing and graceless. Like he knows him. Like he knows everything.

* * *

 

Tina frowns a little, looking between the man in blue coat and the Second Salemers. The man is too interested – she doesn't like it one bit. She doesn't like the Second Salemers on principle, of course, and she doesn't like them in practice either, but this is somehow worse. Having someone be so sincerely enthralled by the poison the woman is spouting is… stomach turning.

There is weird, almost childlike joy on the man's face too. It's _terrible_ and rubs her in all the wrong ways.

Tina is skipping off work – her brand new terribly boring and mind numbingly meaningless job. She'll be told off for it, probably, if she gets caught. And she knows Queenie will tell her off for eating junk food again, which she is not looking forward to. To make it even worse, Mary Lou has gotten better at her speeches, and people are actually listening, taking the leaflets and the day is already going terribly and that's probably what makes this the straw that breaks the hippogriff's back.

Before Tina can stop herself, she's leaning in a little, speaking to the man in blue under her breath. "She beats her kids, you know," she says and then frowns.

The man in blue doesn't even look at her. "You don't say," he says, the accent vaguely English.

"Mm-hmm," Tina agrees, scowling. What sort of reaction was that? "She's a terrible woman. This is all nonsense, you know. Just something for her to hate because she likes hating things. There's nothing out there like her idea of witchcraft," she mutters and takes a bite of her hotdog.

"Funny thing for a witch to say," the man comments and while Tina almost chokes on the bite, he pushes forward. Mary Lou gives him a dazzling smile as he steps up to Credence, holding out his hand for a leaflet.

Poor Credence looks so startled when handing it over, the leaflet visibly shaking. Tina, scowling, pushes after the man – he's a wizard, has to be, what on earth is he doing here, what is he doing _listening_?

"…I know," the man is saying to Credence, making the younger man's eyes widen even more. "I can help."

"Excuse me," Tina says, pushing forward and trying to subtly elbow the man away – only it feels less like trying to push a man aside and more like banging her elbow onto a table corner. Wincing she quickly withdraws her arm – is he wearing armour under his coat? – and then turns to Credence. She forces a smile. "Can I have one of those too, please?"

Credence hands it over, never once looking away from the man.

"Thank you," Tina says and turns to the man in blue – who in turn is not looking away from Credence. A shiver runs down Tina's spine and there's a vague sensation of something being _terribly_ wrong here, something she can't quite put a finger to but which makes her blood run a little colder. "Sir," she says and by some miracle her voice doesn't shake. "Sir, I'd like to talk with you if I may."

"But of course," the man says, offering Credence another smile full of sincere joy. Tina tugs at his arm – it's like trying to move a statue. It must be a spell, something to harden the skin – he was wizard, no doubt about it. He turns, eventually, but it's not by her doing that he moves and she's infuriatingly aware of it.

"… to fight together for the sake of our children!" Mary Lou is shouting as Tina tugs the man in blue away, as far as he is willing to go. "For the sake of tomorrow…!"

"Who are you?" Tina demands under her breath. "What are you doing here, what is your interest with these people?"

The man is _still_ looking at Credence.

"What is your interest with _him_?" Tina hisses at him, getting angrier by the moment.

"What is yours?" the man asks and then, finally, looks at her. He blinks and then something eases in him – like only now realising his own behaviour. He looks down, suddenly awkward, and hunches his shoulders – and it's as if something _hard_ and _immovable_ slides off him, and he turns soft and malleable, his arm turning lax under Tina's touch.

It's like watching statue turn mud.

"You know I'm a witch," Tina says accusingly. "You're wizard?"

"You have a witchly feel," the man says, looking away, the pinched interest on his face turning into shiftiness. "And a wand at your side which is rather telling."

Quickly Tina tugs her coat shut, binding it with the belt. She clears her throat. "Your name?"

"… Newt," the man says. "Scamander," he adds after a moment.

"Did you just make that up on the spot?" Tina asks incredulously. "I work at MACUSA, I'll have you know. What's your real name?"

He clears his throat and then reaches for his pockets, rummaging through them, until he comes away with a nomaj passport. It has a stamp for just that morning, and a name. Newton Artemis Fido Scamander.

Tina frowns at the passport and then looks at the man. "You've just arrived, from England?" she asks, handing the passport over.

"Close enough?" Scamander offers, and pushes the passport back into his pocket.

"Do you have a wand permit?" Tina demands. "All foreigners must have a wand permit in New York."

The man looks away and she's just about to grab him and issue arrest for the slight when he admits, "I don't… have a wand?"

"You don't… have wand?" Tina repeats. "What, did you lose it? If you're aiming to buy a new one here, you're still going to need a permit –"

"I've never had a wand," Scamander interjects, glancing awkwardly at her and then away. He clears his throat. "Or – is it something you need even if you don't use one, or… I never did quite figure that part out."

"But – you're a wizard – are you a wizard?" Tina asks, trying to catch up. "You – I know you have a spell on you, or is it on… your coat?" And then it dawns on her and she sighs. "You're using nomaj travel methods. Of course. You're a _squib_."

"That is… a bit offensive," the man comments, glancing at her.

"Oh, I am so sorryl, I didn't mean… I'm sorry," Tina says and sighs. Then she frowns. A squib – interested in Second Salemers. That was… perhaps even _worse_ than a wizard being interested. "You know, we have rules about interaction with nomajes," she says slowly. "And even foreigners like you, even ones without magic, are subject to those rules."

The man arches his eyebrows at her, looking at her awkwardly from under his fringe. "What are you doing here then?" he asks, not quite pointed.

Tina pauses at that and then clears her throat. "I am observing a known anti-magic society," she says. "It's my _job_."

"So you're like an investigator?" Scamander asks and then saves her the trouble of answering by looking away and at the Second Salemers. At _Credence_. "Is he your job too?" he asks.

"Him – you mean Credence?"

Something about Scamander's face shifts and for a moment he looks… strange. "Is that his name. Credence?" he asks softly and then he beams almost proudly. " _Credence_." And it's almost like Credence can hear it – Tina can see him shifting his footing, glancing their way uneasily.

"What do you want with him?" Tina demands to know. "What do you know about him?"

Scamander looks at her, and the strangeness shifts away. "I know he needs help," he says and his gaze flickers between her eyes, like he's trying to look through them and into her head. "What do _you_ know about him?"

Tina swallows. Queenie used to do that, look at her just like that, when they were young and she still liked knowing people's secrets. Suddenly, the thought that this man might be a legilimens dawns – and then dies, mercifully quick. Squibs can't do magic, can't be legilimens. "I know his mother beats him," she says. "And that he doesn't deserve it."

Scamander eyes her a moment longer – a moment _too long_ even, toeing on the line of awkward. Then he looks away. "No, I don't reckon he doesn't," he murmurs. "They never do."

* * *

 

 _I know_ , he said. _I can help_.

It circles around Credence's head as he tries and fails to keep up with Mother's speech. It's the same speech he's been listening to for years, slightly different here and there but the spirit is the same and yet he can't make out a word of it. All he can hear is the man's voice, English accented and soft and strange. _I know, I can help_.

His hands are shaking, but thankfully no one is looking to get any more leaflets so he dares to lower them. Chastity is giving him a strange look and he can feel Modesty at his side, reaching for his shaking hand – she can tell he's shaken. Maybe they heard. If they understand though, he doesn't know.

_I know, I can help._

Could he? Could he really?

Credence looks up and the man is still there, watching him. He's bit different now, as if the woman at his side had tugged him off balance – he slouches and tilts to the side, he looks less and more strange all at once. He reminds Credence of his own reflection – head tilted downwards, avoiding eye contact, trying to make himself small. And yet, it's different. This man isn't afraid.

Is there something inside him too, something that screams and stares and tears things apart?

Credence looks away, down at Modesty who looks back. "Alright Credence?" she asks quietly, too low for Mother to hear.

The world is still tilting to the side. Credence's head is still aching, maybe even worse than before. He looks up again, at the man in blue, and the headache waxes and wanes, stronger and weaker all at once. He can almost see…

The man in blue smiles, awkward too wide smile with too many teeth. The smile sinks it's teeth in, it has jaws and fangs and it's gnawing on something inside Credence, tearing chunks out of the wool that fills his mind. It's almost as if he knows the smile. Or rather, the bite behind it – but he's forgotten and the smile is now eating away at his forgetfulness.

There's a shadow flickering in the back of his vision where he shouldn't be able to see and the world spins.

 _It's_ happening again.

"Modesty," Credence says, urgent.

Modesty looks up at him and then down at his hand – and then she takes it in both of hers and _twists_ his fingers. The pain is sharp and it soaks through him like water through cloth and he collapses down on himself. The glimpse of… things inside his head fades a little and blinking rapidly Credence breathes until there are no more fangs and jaws and biting things. The darkness recedes and Credence has more body and less mind again.

"Thanks," he breathes slowly. Modesty looks at him searchingly and then nods, clutching onto his hand tightly. It's trembling in hers and old scars hurt, but he's settling again. It still hurts, his head and hand both, but he's settling back into being himself.

Taking a breath Credence glances up again, at the man in blue. He's still smiling.

 _I know_ , the smile bites. _I can help_.

* * *

 

Tina looks between Scamander and Credence and hesitates. She should be going back – her lunch break is long since over and she knows she's going to get such a talking to for this. She should be going back, but there's something…

"What are you going to do?" she asks, because Scamander is planning _something_.

The man doesn't answer immediately. "You didn't answer – is _Credence_ your job too?" he asks then.

"I can care without it being my job," Tina says.

"So he isn't then," the man says and glances at her. "You want to help but you can't, can you?"

Tina swallows and looks away for a moment. The man looks away – at Credence again, like drawn by him. "You didn't answer me either," Tina then says. "What is _your_ interest in him?"

Scamander hesitates and then shrugs, awkward, lowering his head a little. "He's a bit like me, I think," he then says and smiles a weird, crooked smile. "And birds of a feather… and all that."

Tina frowns and looks up. "You mean – he's a squib too?" she asks and then tilts her head to the side. She had felt… something from Credence, now that she thinks about it. There was something special about him. Was that it, the hint of magical ancestry? Was that why she'd been drawn in – was that why Scamander was drawn in? "That would… explain things."

Especially if Mary Lou knew.

Scamander hums and glances at her. "It's nice that you care," he then says and looks away. "Caring is nice."

He says it weirdly, like other people caring is something utterly alien to him. But then, considering that he's a squib… it probably is. Swallowing Tina lowers her eyes. "You really want to help him?" she asks quietly.

"I really do," Scamander agrees.

She nods, decision made. "Is there anything I can do?"

That makes him look at her strangely for a moment and then away. Something odd flickers in his expression – something different from unease, but still uneasy. He shakes his head. "Probably not," he says and then smiles. "Probably best you don't try, really."

"I'm not about to let you do whatever you wish with him – I know nothing about you and you're just a squib. Are you even sure you can help him?" Tina asks frowning and she knows it's rude but it's also serious. MACUSA has rules upon rules about non magical people and the rules for wizards and for nomajes overlap in the case of squibs.

Scamander blinks at that and then frowns at her. "You're arrogant lot sometimes, you wizards," he comments, not quite offended but definitely not amused either.

"I'm sorry – but I'm right," she says firmly. "Magic or lack thereof aside – there are rules about these things. Even if Credence is a squib like you, he doesn't know about magic. In the eyes of the law he is as good as nomaj, and if you tell him, you'll break the law."

Scamander eyes her strangely. "I never said he's a squib," he then says.

"You said he's like you," Tina points out.

"A bit like me, yeah," the man agrees and then shrugs. "But I never said I was squib either."

**Author's Note:**

> warning for future body horror and other types of horror too because eyooo I'm going to try and lovecraftian horrorshow this business.


End file.
